Pain of Love
by Kuroneko Hikage
Summary: With Ichigo and Toshiro, the erotic pain of blood seems to be their own little connection. Yaoi. IchiHitsu. Sequel to One of Those Moments.


TItle: Pain of Love  
Author: -Le gasp- Me! XD  
Rating: M  
Pairing: IchiHitsu  
Disclaimer: Unfortunately, my prayers to the Hentai Master D.i.l.d.o. of Greatness have gone unanswered.  
Summary: After three months, things get escalated with Ichigo and Toshiro.  
Warnings: Blood fixation, blowjob! language, yaoi, un-beta-ed, yadda yadda....

A/N: I realize I haven't written anything for this pairing in a while. I apologize for that. The Jrock plotfoxies have completely taken over my mind. But I feel really bad and at least owe you something. So I decided to revive a story from the IchiHitsu LJ Comm I wrote about two years ago. Wow, has it been that long? I should work more on my Untitled Preface fic. Yush! -ties her good-luck headband- Time for some Bleach-fest! But until then, please enjoy one of my favorite stories.

Toshiro Hitsugaya colapsed onto Ichigo's comfortable bed, glad that the worst had past. Sure enough Inoue Orihime had healed most of his extreme injuries, repairing his extensive internal damage, but in the end couldn't heal everything. She'd patched their entire group up to the best of her ability, to the point where the exhaustion made her pass out cold. He was thankful to her, being as he could finally move. And now, he was here, the blood from his numerous cuts staining the sheets.

The wounds and bruises were the only thrum of pain he could feel right now. The dull ache of the recent battle vibrated pleasantly throughout his body. He laid still for a moment, hearing the beat of his heart through a pillowed ear. It was slowing, steadying into its usual tempo. He could fall asleep to that rhythm.

Forgetting everything but the comfort of his own injuries, Toshiro sat upright, long enough to get rid of his hakama and sword. Completely naked, he crawled on hands and knees to position himself languidly on the bed. He was sweaty, dirty, and smeared with the blood from his open wounds, nevertheless he felt wonderful. The pressure of the matress was soft, and just the right amount of force to influence the pain on his back. The wind coming through the window was enough to make him shiver as it cooled the heat of some of his smaller lacerations.

He turned onto his side to face that wind, let it ruffle his hair, and caress his skin. He lifted a hand to his shoulder and allowed his index finger to trace the line of a long, jagged, but shallow cut that extended down to his elbow. He gather beads of blood, shivering again when a slight sting tingled down his arm. He hadn't told a single soul of his... slight sadomasochism, no one had the right to know his sex life. Most believe he didn't have one.

In a way, they were right. He's never had a girlfriend or a boyfriend. He understood that Momo had an interest in him, but he could never feel that was to his little sister. Big sister when he was younger.

Toshiro turned his head and breathed into the pillow. It smelled of strawberries. His hand traveled up his chest, glancing over his injuries. The rest of Ichigo's entourage settled downstairs socializing amicably amoungst themselves. Rangiku was one of the only people he felt he could really open up to. The other person was the owner of this bed.

He still remembered that winter night three months ago, when Ichigo had grasped his finger, licked it clean of blood, and then letting Toshiro taste himself in a firm lip-lock. That night was all they'd been able to share, since he still had duties to preform back in Seireitei. They hadn't gone far, just some heavy kissing and petting. They haven't said anything about it since. Toshiro managed to push it back in his mind as work poured in, but he couldn't deny the shear agony of curiosity and what more could happen between the two of them, if only he'd be allowed another chance alone with him.

Toshiro gasped when a wet tongue sucked the puckered flesh of one of his back wounds. He looked behind him long enough to see orange-colored hair, and eyes that seemed to burn with lust. The captain didn't know how out-of-it he was, ore for how long. He was distracted enough to let Ichigo slip in unnoticed, take off his shirt, and molest his back.

The pleasure went straight to his groin, and he wasn't ashamed to let Ichigo know that it had affected him. He had missed this; the sensual pain, the insatiable pulse of foreboding sex, and Ichigo's strong presence.

He felt the bed dip and turned to see Ichigo crawling over him, this time completely nude. Toushiro mentally told himself to stop zoning out, and reached out to run his hand down his neck, chest, and stomach, leaving a choppy ribbon trail of blood. His other hand tangled into fiery hair, pulling and tugging him down until their lips meshed in a flurry of teeth and tongue.

Ichigo's muffled grunt affirmed Toshiro's solid hold on his half-massed arousal.

Toshiro held in a loud gasp as Ichigo pulled away to latch onto one of the deeper cuts on his chest. The suction encouraged the bloodflow, and he could feel droplets creeping down his skin. He cried out as that tongue delved deep into his flesh, before swirling around his nipple. Toshiro was breathless, torn between crying and moaning.

He made a half-attempt at saying his lover's name, but the bite on his nipple was enough to fling that thought out of his mind. He was going stir crazy, and it was all because of that cocktease ryouka. He bit his lip as Ichigo's mouth moved further south, lapping at his cuts as if he were some sex-driven wild thing getting intoxicated off his taste. Toshiro rather liked the strays thoughts flitting across his mind; Ichigo screwing him senseless like an animal, nails and teeth making new marks on his pale skin; Ichigo in leather, bound and gagged, dominated by a "child." The last of the hot images got him aroused the most; Ichigo pinning him to a random hard surface, and pounding deep into him unprepared, a rape fantasy so horrid, it would cause every person in the world to throw up. That was his true fantasy.

He had gotten sidetracked again. Ichigo had now moved further, and his breath tickled every nerve he had between his legs. He was successful in calling Ichigo's name as the orangetop swiftly swooped downward and took him into his mouth, hands pressing Toshiro's waist as they flew upward.

He clung to the bedsheets, afraid that if he didn't, then he'd orgasm too early. He lifted a leg, rubbing a foot encouragingly down Ichigo's back. He could feel the hum of his voice, the sound of is throat. Ichigo's mouth worked hard and greedy, sucking Toshiro off quickly, and efficiantly. Toshiro could no longer hold it in. With Ichigo's skillful mouth, and the two fingers he'd managed to sneak into him, it was sensory overload. He managed to bite back most of the yell, but a soft cry still echoed throughout the room.

Toshiro moved his hands to Ichigo's shoulders and arms as he crawled back up, straddling his panting, exerted, bloody body. The sweaty musk of sex filled the room and cooled into moisture on their skins. Their bodies were giving off numerous amounts of heat, but they did care. They were too enamoured in each other's eyes, breaths mingling.

The white-haired captain took a finger to his mouth, wiping the blood onto his tongue. He was half smirking as Ichigo descended for another kiss, intimately, for as long as they could without air. Toshiro could taste himself in Ichigo, something he found arousing and hard to resist. He broke their kiss, staring at those eyes; ones that could give him every fantasy he'd hoped for.

Hooking his limbs around the taller teenager, he rolled them over, Ichigo giving a stiff moan as his erection rubbed against the smaller's thigh. Well, he'd better get started on them.

~*Owari*~

Hope you enjoyed. -bows-


End file.
